


You Wanna Hold Me So Tight

by RushingHeadlong



Series: Love Never Would Have Happened Quite This Way [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: (because Jamie actually wore one for this and it's wild), (for a bit), Anonymous Sex, Collars, Dom!Brian, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Nipple Play, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, slight breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RushingHeadlong/pseuds/RushingHeadlong
Summary: There’s a new band on the scene to rival Queen, and when the two groups meet at TopPop Brian finds his attention captured by the other guitarist.
Relationships: Brian May/Jamie Moses
Series: Love Never Would Have Happened Quite This Way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125989
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	You Wanna Hold Me So Tight

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I don’t know what this fic is but if there’s one thing I am good at it’s coming up with increasingly niche story ideas and then entering a fugue state and writing them with zero edits or conscious thought. So that’s what you’re getting here.
> 
> Title from the Merlin song, “Alright”.
> 
> For context, Merlin were a short-lived band who released a single album together and had one appearance on TopPop ([which you can watch here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tw_SbBt1E54)). That was apparently enough for them to get directly compared to Queen in Melody Maker in 1974. They are also noteworthy for being the first proper band of Jamie Moses, who would later go on to play with the Brian May Band and Queen + Paul Rodgers.

“I can’t believe _this_ is the band that’s apparently our biggest competition,” Freddie mutters as they watch all five members of Merlin head to the stage. 

“Only according to Melody Maker,” John says, as if they need reminding of that. As if any of them could have possibly forgotten the article titled _Hype in the Pop Market_ or the two-page spread comparing Queen to Merlin. “Besides, it’s just because they’re new on the scene that they’re getting this attention. They only just released their first album, after all.”

“That’s the fucking problem, though, isn’t it?” Roger says. “We’re on our third album and we’re still getting compared to newcomers? The fuck is Melody Maker on here?”

“So would it be better or worse if Merlin did have something to offer?” John asks. 

Roger scowls at that very suggestion and Freddie says tersely, “To be perfectly honest, dear, I’m not fond of either option.” He glances over at Brian and adds, “You’ve been quiet so far. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly fond of our tweeny-pop competitors over there.”

“I fucking am _not_ ,” Brian snaps - but his eyes still linger on the stage as the band takes their positions and launches into their playback performance. 

Because the truth of the matter is, he _does_ think that Merlin has something to offer. Maybe not a lot, but enough that it genuinely grates at him that he can recognize the glimpses of talent in a band otherwise burdened by cheap leather catsuits and a singer who sounds like he’s been gargling with gravel. 

Talent, in this case, comes in the form of the young guitarist who’s currently showing more enthusiasm than anyone else on that stage. 

Not that his talent is apparent from the playback happening here. Brian has no idea why this song, out of the meager scraps that Merlin has to offer, is the one that landed them on TopPop, because unlike the rest of Queen Brian has actually bought and listened to their album and he knows that there’s better material on there. And this guitarist, who’s even giving genuine effort with his mimed singing, has some riffs in their other songs that make Brian feel a twinge of jealousy. 

He feels that jealousy now as he watches the guitarist perform his heart out. If the strangling rules that govern these sorts of shows irritate him, he’s certainly not showing it tonight, and Brian thinks he hates him a little for how much _fun_ he seems to be having with this. 

It’s certainly a far cry from how Brian feels every time Queen has to make an appearance on Top of the Pops (or one of the show’s foreign counterparts, like what’s happening here). Brian always feels irritable on these sets, constrained by the playback and demeaned by the whole process, but those feelings are only made worse now by having to watch Merlin film their segment before Queen takes the stage themselves. 

Brian hates that he has to see this guitarist’s talent firsthand, and he hates that the young man is shackled to a band like _this_. Brian is both envious of his skills and pities him - and as the stage lights flash and catch on his sparkly collar and the glint of sweat along the open vee of his catsuit, Brian is also uncomfortably aroused by the image of him up on that stage. This is Queen’s biggest competition right now; that man is _Brian’s_ direct counterpart. He should be worried about how far Merlin can go and what that means for Queen, not half-hard as he watches this guitarist perform. 

So Brian does his best to push those feelings down, and bury them underneath the annoyance that he always feels on these shows and the anger that his bandmates feel about Merlin and Melody Maker both. 

It works, at least a little, because by the time Merlin leaves the stage Brian is certainly seething. But then the guitarist, wrapped up in a conversation with the singer and not paying attention to where he’s going, runs into Brian - and rather than apologizing he laughs and says, “Hey, watch it, man!”

It’s probably meant as a bit of a joke but Brian scowls at him and says, “ _You_ watch where you’re going.”

The guitarist rolls his eyes at him and even _that_ is somehow infuriatingly attractive, and for a moment Brian wants nothing more than to kiss that stupid look off his face… but then Roger is giving him a push to get him moving, and Brian has to follow Queen out onto the stage for their turn in front of the cameras. 

This isn’t the first time they’ve performed Killer Queen to playback and somehow it’s even more boring this time than it ever has been in the past. Or maybe it’s just Brian’s simmering frustration that’s making this feel even more tedious than it usually is, that’s making him struggle to even pretend that he’s actually playing live while the track echoes in the soundstage around them. 

His mood certainly isn’t improved when he catches a glimpse of Merlin’s guitarist watching them from the wings. He’s the only one there, and for some reason he’s still wearing that stupid catsuit and collar as he watches Queen perform. He catches Brian looking at him and he smirks, and Brian grits his teeth and pointedly turns his head away. 

The guitarist is gone by the time Queen leaves the stage, but Brian is still fuming and he shoves his guitar (thankfully not his Red Special) at the first waiting tech that he sees.

“Woah, hey, what’s eating you?” Roger asks. “We’re _done_ now. This is the good part of the night.”

“Maybe he’s still annoyed about having to see Merlin here,” Freddie says as he relinquishes his mic and pulls off his jacket. “God knows I’m not happy about that myself.”

Brian _is_ still annoyed about Merlin, but probably not for the same reason that Freddie is - and certainly not for any reason that he wants to share with his friends. 

“Just need to piss,” he mutters. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a moment, yeah?”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he storms off down the hall. He doesn’t really need to piss, but he’s hoping that splashing some cold water on his face will help him calm down so he ducks into the first bathroom that he comes across anyway. 

That ends up being a mistake, because standing by the sink and just finishing drying off his hands is the guitarist from Merlin. 

He looks up as Brian walks in and there’s a flash of surprise on his face, before it settles back into a lazy grin. “Well. Done with your performance already?”

He’s American. Or at least, there’s something not entirely English to his accent. Brian had missed that in their brief encounter earlier and it throws him off for a second. What is an _American_ doing here in London, recording a performance for TopPop and looking like he walked out of any stereotypical British glam rock band?

“Cat got your tongue?” the guitarist teases when Brian doesn’t immediately say anything. “Or are you just too pissy to even want to talk to me?”

That snaps Brian back to his sense and he says, “I’m not pissy but _obviously_ we’re done with the performance. That’s a stupid question to ask.”

“No, of course you’re not pissy,” the guitarist says with a pointed roll of his eyes. “All of you in Queen have been in a right mood since you got here. Is it the publicity you hate, or are you just that insecure about us being here too?”

Brian lets out a bark of laughter at that. “We honestly don’t give a shit about Merlin.”

“Melody Maker says you should.”

“Melody Maker has clearly never heard you play before,” Brian retorts, and he smirks when he sees the guitarist bristle at that comment. 

“Is that why you couldn’t stop staring at us before? Because we were just so _bad_ that you couldn’t stop watching?” the guitarist asks, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

The oversized, sparkly tag dangling from the front of his collar moves slightly every time he talk. Try as he might Brian, can’t keep his eyes off of it and the way that the thin band of plastic emphasizes the line of the guitarist’s throat. 

“Or maybe there was something _else_ that caught your attention,” the guitarist drawls, and when Brian drags his eyes back up he can see the smug and knowing look on his face. 

“Shut up,” Brian says. 

“And here I was thinking that you were worried about Merlin,” the guitarist continues. “But clearly you were just worried about how much you wanted me-”

Brian cuts him off with a kiss that takes them both by surprise. Brian certainly hadn’t planned on doing that, but he’s been half-hard since Merlin first took the stage and he’s just angry enough that his usual hesitance (and common sense) is nowhere to be found. The guitarist gasps but doesn’t push Brian away, and Brian takes advantage of that to crowd him against the counter and deepen the kiss. 

The guitarist whimpers and Brian eagerly swallows down the sound. He feels like he’s burning up inside, all that frustration and anger and hate from earlier finally reaching a boiling point - and now that it has an outlet, Brian intends to let everything out. 

He nips at the guitarist’s bottom lip as he pulls back and his answering low groan goes right to Brian’s cock. “I wasn’t _worried_ about wanting you,” Brian says is a low voice. “I fucking _hated_ how much I wanted you.”

“Funny how that’s not stopping you here,” the guitarist says, a little breathless. 

“Yeah, but you don’t want me to stop anyway, do you?” Brian asks. 

The guitarist scowls and grabs Brian’s shirt to pull him back down into another kiss, and Brian laughs against his lips before quickly taking control again. For all his bluster he melts under Brian’s touch so _easily_ , and when Brian slides one hand into the open front of his catsuit to thumb over a nipple the guitarist whimpers softly and practically _melts_ against the counter. 

“Someone’s sensitive,” Brian murmurs against his lips. He scrapes his nail over the tight bud and rolls it gently between his fingers, and grins when the guitarist moans into the kiss. “You like that? Like having someone play with your chest like this?”

He’s expecting another biting retort from the guitarist, but instead the man just moans again and says, “Fuck, _please_ -”

Brian groans and grinds against him, and even through the layers of material the feeling of his hard cock against Brian’s is absolutely delicious. Brian pulls down the zipper on the catsuit a little bit further and gets his other hand on the guitarist’s chest too, tweaking and teasing both of his nipples as he leans down to suck a bruise on his neck just above that collar. 

“Fuck, no marks, no marks,” the guitarist pants. 

“Leave the collar on and no one will notice,” Brian mumbles against his skin, but he doesn’t want to be that much of an asshole here so with one last lick to the reddened spot he pulls back and studies the guitarist. 

His eyes are dark with lust and his lips are swollen from the kisses. He’s flushed from his cheeks down the open vee of his catsuit and across his chest, and every touch on his nipples gets him whimpering and moaning and rocking up against Brian. Brian thinks he could make him come just like this, just from grinding against Brian and having his chest played with, and that idea is so hot that it makes Brian’s head spin. 

But he’s not feeling entirely altruistic at the moment, and he has something else he’d like to do first.

So he pulls the guitarist away from the counter and pushes the catsuit down off his shoulders, but leave his arms tangled in the sleeves behind him. “On your knees,” he says, and he doesn’t even have to push him down to get him to sink to his knees in front of Brian. 

“Didn’t expect you to be this good for me,” Brian says as he opens his fly and pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock. 

“Didn’t expect you to want to hook up in a public toilet,” the guitarist retorts, though the quip is weakened by the way he licks his lips as he watches Brian give his cock a few slow strokes. 

“Guess we’re both full of surprises then,” Brian says. He gently grabs a fistful of the guitarist’s hair and says, “Open up for me now.”

And he does, dropping his mouth open wide and letting Brian slowly feed him his cock. His mouth is warm and perfect, and he doesn’t hesitate to start sucking along Brian’s length and trying to bob his head forward to take Brian in deeper. But Brian tightens his grip in his hair, just a little, just enough to hold him in place as he rocks his hips instead, taking his fill of him rather than ceding an inch of control here.

The guitarist whines but doesn’t struggle against him, just stays where Brian has put him, on his knees and with his arms pinned in place by the stiff leather of his own jumpsuit, as he drops his jaw as wide as he can and lets Brian push his cock down into his throat. He gags and chokes a little, but when Brian pulls back their eyes meet and the guitarist nods just slightly, a silent okay for Brian to continue. 

So that’s exactly what Brian does, picking up the pace until he’s fucking hard and fast into the guitarist’s mouth. It’s messy, with spit drooling from the corner of his mouth, and every time Brian goes a little too deep he splutters and chokes - but he doesn’t struggle in Brian’s grip, and he keeps doing his best to work his tongue along Brian’s length whenever Brian pulls back. His sincere enthusiasm for being used like this is the hottest fucking thing Brian’s ever seen, and it doesn’t take long before he feels his orgasm starting to build. 

“Gonna come,” he pants out in warning. “Can I-?”

The guitarist moans and nods, and Brian pushes him down onto the full length of his cock and spills deep in his throat, groaning as he lets the guitarist’s talented mouth work him through his orgasm. 

When Brian finally pulls out, the guitarist is absolutely _wrecked_. There are tears in his eyes and spit covering his jaw and dripping down onto his chest, but Brian can still see the unmistakable outline of his erection against his catsuit and he watches as the guitarist tries to rock his hips to get _any_ sort of friction against his cock. 

Brian gently pulls him back to his feet and pushes him back against the counter. He kisses him, just a hair gentler than before. “Alright?” he asks. 

The guitarist nods. “Tell me you’re gonna return the favor now.”

“That’s the plan,” Brian says. With the way the leather catsuit is tangled around his arms it takes a little bit of effort to get his cock out, but Brian finally manages it and he licks his hand before reaching down and starting to stroke him. 

The guitarist cries out, louder than he’s been so far and certainly too loud for where they are.

“Gotta keep it down,” Brian tells him. He brings his other hand up to his neck and fits two fingers underneath the collar and gives a small, careful tug. The guitarist moans, but now that he’s being choked slightly he’s not nearly as loud as he was before. 

“Knew there had to be a reason you were wearing this thing,” Brian teases as he twists his hand around the head of his cock, smearing the precome around and helping slick the way as he jerks him off, fast and rough. “I should’ve just done this earlier to shut you up.”

The guitarist doesn’t answer that, just moans and writhes between Brian in front of him and the counter pressing into his back as Brian picks up his pace. He’s so close, Brian can see that, and he takes a calculated risk to pull a little harder on the collar, choking him just a little bit more and using his arm to push the fabric of the catsuit across his still-peaked nipple - and that’s all it takes for the guitarist to spill over Brian’s hand with a shout that Brian is quick to swallow down with another kiss. 

The guitarist collapses against the counter, utterly spent, and Brian gives him a moment to catch his breath as he washes his hand and wets a paper towel to help clean him off. He tucks his cock away and pulls the jumpsuit back onto his shoulders, finally freeing his trapped arms so he can zip himself back up and readjust the collar at his neck. 

“Well,” the guitarist says with a laugh that’s still a little too breathless. “I think our bandmates are going to wonder what we’ve been doing in here.”

Brian winces at the thought. He hopes no one heard them in here. “We probably shouldn’t leave together. I’ll head out first, give you a minute to compose yourself?”

“Yeah, thanks,” the guitarist says.

Brian nods. Now that this encounter is over he’s uncomfortable with staying here with the guitarist any longer, so he only takes a moment to double-check that he looks presentable before he heads for the door. 

“Hey, you know I’m sorry for being a dick earlier,” the guitarist calls out behind him. “I don’t care about Melody Maker pitting us against each other, Queen is a great fucking band.”

Brian swallows down a lump in his throat. He glances over his shoulder, where the guitarist is giving him a friendly smile. “You’re great too,” he says, sincerely. “But you deserve to be with a better band than Merlin.”

The guitarist’s eyes widen in surprise, and before he can say anything in response Brian quickly leaves the room and hurries away. 


End file.
